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Friday, May 18, 2012

Can you woo woo woo?

Hello, Ducks!

Starzina Starfish-Browne here with your Eric’s Daily Horoscope for Friday, May 18, 2012.  Happy birthday to Mister Gregory GODDAMN! G., who turns twenty-four somewhere in the environs of Greater Bostonia.  Long-time Readers will recall GG!G (as his friends call him) as the love child of Christian Slater and the late, lamented River Phoenix.  Now, you can either choose to improve your day by pixturing the loveliness that would result from the blending of two such splendid sets of genes (also jeans), or you can choose to depress yourself by reflecting that the late, lamented Mister Phoenix would be turning forty-two this year and that, as of next year, he will have been late and lamented for TWENTY YEARS.  We Our Own Self Personally choose the former.


We also, parenthetically, choose the high road.  We also also choose Jif™.  Because We?  Are one choosy mother.

How many shoes would a choosy mother choose if a choosy mother could choose shoes?


That would have worked better if it contained the word “chews”.  Also “floozy”.

Haiku are easy,
But sometimes they don’t make sense:

Meanwhile, this just in from MizGerreGarrett:

How many of you believe in telekinesis?  Raise my hand.

As you can see, We got nothin’.  So , as we teeter just this side of madness, do please help Us out by going to watch Starzina’s Time of the Month Horoscope: Taurus video:  In fact, go to Our YouTube channel and watch ALL of Our damn videos: Hey, we’re cracking up; it’s the least you can do.

Speaking of fillums, here, because its brilliance cannot be overstated, is the slogan for Our latest fillum:  Uranus is Our Rosebud.

Hmmm…it would appear to be Tina Fey’s birthday today.  She is forty-two.  So Tina Fey and the late, lamented River Phoenix were the same age.  Until one of them was dead.  Freaky, no?  And on FRIDAY…

Here’s  the HorrorScope: 

 It’s one of those days when your passionate enthusiasm just can’t be denied.  (For it’s a jolly good fellow.)

You may be wooing a new love (Or you may be woo-wooing them.  In which case, they most likely won’t last long enough to become an old love.  Because woo-wooing?  Is weird.  And gets on people’s nerves.  Not quite as much as the Snuggle™ bear, or that lady who sells insurance, but still.  Woo-woo at your own peril.  And don’t even CONTEMPLATE woo-woo-wooing.)

(If We got paid by the word like that fucking hack of a Charles Dickens, We’d be rich, We tell you, RICH.)

or digging in to help your favorite cause,  (No matter how many times We re-read the preceding, it keeps turning into digging up the late, lamented River Phoenix.  Which is a little too kinky, even for Us.  We have no interest in the question, “Is there sex after death?”  Especially since We have yet to answer the question, “Is there sex before death?”)


but others are impressed by what they see.  (Can you believe this is till the same sentence that the wooing was in?)

(Woozy mothers bruise Jews.)

(Another rogue brain cell heard from.)

It might feel like you’ve been through the emotional ringer lately, (Yo, AssHat.  Perhaps you meant to say “emotional wringer”.  What the fuck is an emotional ringer?  Colonel Mustard, in the belltower, with an Uzi?)

(All around Us, the world cries out for editors, but will they pay Us?)

but don’t worry (Be crappy.)

— you’re due for a break today. (So get out and get away…to Old MacDonald’s farm!  With a woo-woo here, and a woo-woo there; here a woo, there a woo, it’s like a fucking Chinese phone book.)

(See how all the jokes sort of came together (heh) into one large joke that is greater than the sum of at least some of its parts?  A sort of joke stew…or a joke ragout, if you will.)

Everything is going to go much more smoothly than it has been, and you will benefit from the ambition of others. (It’s about damn time these friggin’ “others” made themselves useful.)

Let them do all the work while you supervise. (See, We keep mixing that up with “supersize”.  Which explains Our ass.)

(Actually, an explanation of Our ass would be downright Dickensian.  (Yet another apparently random thread weaves its way into the tapestry of Our stream of unconsciousness.  Are We good or what?))

(Ten demerits to anyone who said “or what”.)

Take advantage of this downtime by following up on a travel opportunity.  (But whoever will tell Us where to go?)

Go and learn more about a culture that you’ve always been curious about.  (Okay…where do rich, attractive young men with voracious sexual appetites for Partners Of A Certain Age congregate these days?)

Fill today with exploration, (And spelunking?  Can there be spelunking?)

and feed your curiosity.  (Curiously, curious mothers feed their curiosity Jif™.)

 All that initial attraction might just be an excess of friction.  (Which is why God made lube.)

(Didn’t see THAT coming (heh), didja?)

This person amuses you for right now, but the situation isn’t necessarily built for the long run.  (Unless someone is chasing Us with a knife, We?  Do not run.)

Go ahead and enjoy yourself, but don’t invest too much.  (How can We?   We don’t have too much to start with.)

(We just went looking for lyrics to use as today’s subject line, whereupon We discovered this:

 A Woo Woo is an alcoholic beverage made of vodka, peach schnapps, and cranberry juice. It is typically served as a cocktail in a highball glass or can be served as a shot. It is also sometimes served in a rocks glass. The ingredients are usually shaken together with ice or stirred as preferred. A lime wedge is used as a garnish.

Don’t say We never taught ya nothin’.)

(Your Your-O-Scopes:

(Meanwhile, why We didn’t think of this sooner, We’ve got no idea, but better laid than necking, as they say (and how right they are!).  For real live actual ass(tromlaogical) ho(roscopular) advice, please visit Our good friend AstroGeek here:  Our Own epistular musings are of use to you only insofar as making you feel better by comparison, but he will give you actual pertinent advice for your very own lives, based on upon the positions and transitations of all manner of planets, planetoids, asteroids, Altoids™, hemorrhoids, and other heavenly flotsam, jetsam, and Jetsons.  Plus, he knows all about Uranus!)
Starzina Starfish-Browne was born in the wagon of a traveling show…well, okay, not really. She was actually born in Lowake, Texas, the daughter of a beautician and either a garage mechanic or the town mailman. At sixteen, she escaped her humble beginnings by running off with Doctor Browne’s Traveling Medicine Show and, more to the point, Doctor Browne. Following the dissolution of this unfortunate entanglement (Doctor Browne was a Virgo and Starzina is, of course, an Aries), which produced a daughter, Starzina entered a contest in Soap Opera Digest and won a scholarship to Oxford (yes, in ENGLAND), where she earned her doctorate in the newly-created dual major of Astrology and Human Sexuality. There is absolutely NO TRUTH to the rumor that Starzina’s second daughter has Royal blood, despite tabloid photographs allegedly depicting her cavorting on the Italian Riviera with Princes William and Harry, clad only in Prussian helmets and armbands of questionable taste. Starzina currently resides with her daughters in Philadelphia, the City That Loves You (On Your) Back, where she enjoys Double Coupon Day at the local SuperCruise and “encouraging” the coxswain of the Penn rowing team.